


You'll be Left in the Dust

by JFruit (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Abuse, Abusive Lucius Malfoy, Abusive Parents, Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Awkward Romance, Bullied Draco Malfoy, Bullying, Child Abuse, Comfort/Angst, Cutting, Depression, Draco Malfoy - Freeform, Draco Malfoy Angst, Draco Malfoy Feels, Draco Malfoy Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Falling In Love, Gay, Gay Character, Harry Potter - Freeform, Harry Potter is Bad at Feelings, Homophobia, Homosexuality, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lots of Angst, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, M&M - Freeform, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Mute Draco Malfoy, Muteness, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Romance, Sad, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Draco Malfoy, Suicidal Thoughts, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Verbal Abuse, m/m - Freeform, maybe smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-10-09 06:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17402108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/JFruit
Summary: (Kind of alternate universe since I forgot about a lot of things in Harry Potter)Draco is still living in his traumatic memories about his abusive father, being tortured by Lord Voldy-Moldy, being bullied- and basically, his life just fucking sucks and does a 180 on him. He used to have all of his friends, but even his Slytherin companions have turned their backs on him when they realized he tried to kill Dumbledore (But he was forced to, by the way!)And now Draco is mute because he thinks that no one would benefit from hearing his voice, that he'd be doing the wizarding world a favor by keeping his mouth shut.





	1. Author's Note

This is basically my first story, so I hope you guys like it and it doesn't suck. I really can't write for long periods of time at once, due to mysterious circumstances unbeknownst to all of humanity itself. (No it's just that I'm lazy T-T) Anyway, if some people like it I guess I'll try harder to update :)

By the way, Draco is so freaking precious ahHHHH gOshers I can'T evEN


	2. Chapter 1

Oh yeah, I forgot to remind you guys that I suck with British stuff. Like I don't know what the spellings are or what words to use... so. Don't expect realistic speech/dialogue. They'll be speaking more "Americainy"

* * *

     Draco Malfoy awoke in the midst of the night, sweating and shivering. His mouth had opened in terror, yet no words had come out. He sat up against his pillow, trying to calm down his panicked breathing. Hands shaking, he clutched the blanket and let out a breath. He closed his eyes and stilled.

      _No more,_ Draco thought miserably. He couldn't take this anymore. Nightmares every single night, waking up to find that reality was no better than his dreams of untold agony, death, and punishment.  _It would be worse in the manor,_ he reminded himself. His abusive father was gone, but that didn't change the fact that his mother completely ignored him, and at times when she didn't- it'd just be worse. Worse than when she ignored him. 

     Draco shuddered trying to get the image of  _her_ out of his mind. How she despised him, starved him in his room for days, and though she didn't hit as hard as his father, Draco was pretty sure she hated him more. 

     The Slytherin rubbed his eyes wearily and slid quietly out of his bed. He tiptoed to the door and stepped outside. Once again, the 10th time in a row, Draco found himself wandering the school halls with no real destination.

* * *

 

     Pansy had stayed awake since 9, trying to find out what Draco did during the night that left him so tired and dead-looking in the morning. But then again, almost everyone looked dead-looking in the morning. But Draco especially. She checked her alarm clock, which she had charmed so it could only make noise to her. The other Slytherins were complaining about the noise. She almost snorted at the memory, because as soon as she had charmed it, practically  _everyone,_ give or take a few people, were late to their morning class.  _2:38._ Pansy couldn't  _stand_ the boredom any longer, and soon her thoughts had drifted to Draco.

     Sure, she knew that he tried to kill Dumbledore. And it wasn't a huge secret that he was a Death Eater, too. But Pansy just wished, wished that there could be evidence found that Draco was  _forced_ to do these things, because then maybe she and everyone else wouldn't hate him as much as they did. In fact she found him absolutely revolting; how could he do those things, like torture innocent muggles and wizards, even if he were a Slytherin? But everytime she found him looking at the ground, shutting off everyone's insults and constant harassment in his own little world, she found herself pitying him. And Pansy began to wonder, maybe he  _was_ forced to do these things... Maybe he just didn't have the courage to defend himself.  

     Pansy sighed. She was beginning to sound like a Hufflepuff. Or worse, a  _Gryffindor._

But again, it  _did_ sound reasonable, after all, Draco couldn't even speak, much less speak for himself. But she'd have to find someone who'd get Draco to talk. A lot. As in confess everything he knew about the war, admit some things, dismiss other things as false. Currently Draco was the number one information holder, having been so traumatized by the war that he couldn't share  _anything,_ which made him incredibly valuable, as he was allied with Voldemort (Pansy shuddered in fear) but also with allies of Dumbledore. But of course, no one acknowledged that Draco was valuable at all, which made Pansy angry, but not angry enough to stop them from talking. She still didn't know if Draco had done it all of his own free will. And she'd have to find out.

     Suddenly, she heard the rustling of bed sheets and someone stepping quietly onto the floor. 

      _Draco!_ She thought excitedly. So she  _had_ been right; there was a reason for the constant bags under the blond's eyes.

     Pansy listened for further activity, straining her ears. The door that lead to the hall creaked open, and she smiled. Her plan was a success. 

     She quickly grabbed her wand and threw on her robes over her night wear. She followed the nearly-silent footsteps almost perfectly, except that  _her_ footsteps were twice as loud as the ones she was trying to follow. But she didn't notice. Stupid Pansy.

* * *

     Draco stopped suddenly. Was someone  _following_ him? He whirled around quickly, but there was no one. Well, he thought he saw a flurry of feet trying to get behind a pillar. But that was probably nothing.

     So he kept on walking, but the footsteps were so loud behind him that it was almost painful to ignore. 

     He turned around again, this time catching the culprit in the act. His eyes widened.  _Pansy? Is she here to hex me?_ were the first thoughts that flew through his head.

     Pansy looked at him guiltily. "I just... wanted to see where you go every night? Fuck that sounds creepy- I mean, you weren't in your bed one time when I woke up. Not that I watch you when you're sleeping, 'cause that's creepy and I'm not creepy and-" She nervously laughed. Clearing her throat, she sobered up and began explaining. "I was just worried about you. We used to be friends and all, but then you... did some things in the war and then I guess we grew apart. I still worry about you though, you know?" 

     Draco nodded stiffly. For a month people had completely ignored him (and harassed him) and so did Pansy. Now she was saying she still cared.  _Cared_. He wasn't used to that word. Much less the whole emotion. 

     Pansy sighed. "Draco, I really fucked up. I should've asked you what really happened, but so many people just blamed you and the Death Eaters for everything, and I guess I just went along with the majority." Draco gave her a bitter smile. "I just want to say, if you ever tell me something, about the war- or anything, I swear I'll believe you. I swear. I know you don't want to speak to anyone right now, and trust me I know how you feel..." She trailed off, gathering the courage to look at the boy again. She held her hand out, and Draco flinched. Pansy bit her lip. She couldn't imagine all the things Draco had gone through.

     "I'll be there for you?" 

     Pansy held out her hand for Draco to shake. They shook hands. And left, both with mixed feelings.

* * *

     Draco continued on his journey to nowhere. He thought and he thought, about Pansy, about his Slytherin used-to-be friends, about the stupid hate relationship he used to have with Potter and Weasley and Granger- But mostly Potter. 

      _Potter. I wonder what he's up to now? I wonder if hes been traumatized by the war? I wonder if he has friends to help him. He probably does._ A pang of jealousy ran through him.  _I wish I was his friend._ Now this thought startled him. Where had it even come from? He didn't want anything to do with  _Potter._ Stupid "Boy-who-lived" that everyone loved and admired. Stupid savior of the wizarding world that ended the war, that has so many friends, that has everything  _he_ doesn't. 

     Draco blinked suddenly, surprised. The wind was whipping at his robes, and the sky was dark, but had streaks of light that would soon form a beautiful sunrise. He was out on the roof. How? He didn't know. All he knew was that he was walking absentmindedly for what felt like two seconds and then he was here. He neared the edge and looked down. Would it be so bad to die? He started listing off the people who wouldn't care. Which was basically everyone. He tried listing off the people that would care if he killed himself.  _Hmm... Pansy maybe? Then..._ His mind went blank, and abruptly he was aware of the fact that no one loved him, and he was all alone on this lonely roof, contemplating suicide. 

     Draco's eyes started to water. He hadn't cried in a long time. "Malfoys _don't show emotion"_ he recalled, a memory from his father. He stood at the edge. Looking down on the Quidditch field. Would his blood soon speckle the beautiful green grass, ruining the perfect picture of Hogwarts' scenery? 

     He let out a breath. _If I'm going to die, I want to die peacefully_ , he decided. He stuck one foot over the edge, preparing to jump. But he soon realized that he couldn't. His throat closed up, and suddenly he felt like he couldn't breathe, like the whole world was pressing down on him, choking him. His vision blurred and he backed away, his head pounding and hands shaking. 

      _What's wrong with me? What was I just going to do?_ The reality of everything came rushing down on him, the fact that he was going to end something he would never be able to get back. 

     Draco sat down on the roof, cupping his eyes with his hands. What was he going to do now?

* * *

 

Harry Potter POV

     My throat lurched, and I began to feel the need to throw up. Why was Malfoy going up to the roof? Was he even conscious of what he was doing? I watched him silently as he neared the edge. He stuck one foot over the edge. Panicked and adrenaline-packed, I raised my wand, the beginnings of "Wingardium Leviosa" on the tip of my tongue. But he sprang back like the ledge was fire, his wide eyes and harsh breathing drowned out by the wind. I watched numbly as he sank down, hiding his face so no one could see him cry. Which was stupid, because who would be on the roof with him? Certainly not me.

* * *

Chapter 1 End. I don't wanna write anymore and I feel like my writing style is awkward and it sucks should I just write smut instead? I mean I don't think I'm deep enough for angst... haHAahahaHah Idk. This was so short tho and most people write more so I'm sorry to those who wanted an update xD

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took so long to update!

     Draco found himself at the very end of the Slytherin table, away from most eyes. He stared at the food, wondering why he even got up if he wasn’t going to eat anything. Besides, no one would miss him at breakfast anyway. Draco’s arms crossed over his slim stomach, clutching his sides so the aching hunger would go away. He didn’t need extra calories.

     Although the light blond boy was practically drowning in his robes and had stick-skinny arms and legs, he refused to admit that he, in fact, did need the excess energy. But he needed something to blame for his misery. The pain from his stomach dulled slightly, enough that he could get up without making noise, anyway. Draco sighed, pushed out of his table, and walked out of the Great Hall. He could feel several people glaring holes into his back, obviously thinking that Draco was behaving rudely. Which maybe he was, but it was justified by the aching hunger in his stomach.

     The Slytherin made his way into the boy’s bathroom, taking one glance at the mirror, then grimacing in disgust. His skin was pale, so it contrasted harshly against the clashing dark circles under his eyes, and the faded purple bruises that stained his jaw and sides of his face. He moaned and ran a hand over his face in annoyance.

     “Who you moaning for now, fag? Fuckin’ retard, thinking you’re so great ‘cause your _sugar daddy’s_ a Death Eater.” Blaise walked in, smiling, but his eyes cold and his words contradicting.

     Draco whirled around and drew his wand quickly. Their eyes met sharply.

Draco’s POV

      _Blaise. Blaise had once been my friend, laughing with me in the library, talking to me regularly during meals and quidditch practice. It seems that that was forever ago, when it was only around two months in reality. I remember how sudden the change had been. The day I got back from my father’s trial, I was blatantly ignored when I needed uplifting the most. Then the whispering. Then, the teasing, the bullying, the physical abuse. That day was the third time I cut in my entire life. Now, I have lost track. I wish that I had friends again. Then maybe I could open up, talk, laugh even, but it seems unlikely by how things are going. I wish…_ I stared at my hands. _I wish Harry Potter was my friend. Incredibly stupid, considering he was the legendary hero,_ I reminded myself hastily. _I was the poor, stupid, annoying, and extremely arrogant Death Eater antagonist. Not that I could ever be arrogant again if I wanted to, because I can’t speak. But why did I want to be friends with Potter?_ The question confused me. _Maybe… I want to befriend him because he has many friends, and then my social life would… I slapped myself mentally. Obviously, I was attracted to Potter for some reason, but it certainly wasn’t to steal his Gryffindor friends._ I almost smirked.

     I was brought back from my reverie when my wand flew out of my hand and into the hands of my opponent. I stared at his hand in a stupor. Stupid, I berated myself. Pay attention. _Merlin, you can’t do anything right, can you? That wand had cost a fair amount of galleons. Father would certainly get angry. Angry. Perhaps Father’s one flaw was his inability to control his anger. Although, he was only like that with me. So it was probable that I was the problem- like I was for practically everything._

_Focus, Draco._

     I opened my mouth to demand that he give my wand back, but the words wouldn’t come out. It felt like I was choking on nothing. My hands started shaking, and I couldn’t do anything but stare down at the ground and squeeze my eyes shut in frustration. I clutched my robes until my knuckles turned even paler and glared at him.

     “Oh Malfoy, I’m so scared! You’re glaring at me? Whatever shall I do?” He mocked, snickering at me.

     I felt anger course through my body, but the building pool of fear at the bottom of my throat kept me from punching his nose into his stupid face. He would punch back much harder. And he did. The first punch landed on my right cheekbone, making me stumble back into the wall as he grabbed my collar and pulled me up so he could hit me again. And again. And again. He just smiled and pulled his fist back repeatedly, slamming against my cheekbone. I struggled to breathe, trying not to sob as I let out tiny whimpers between every punch. It was worse that he was hitting in the same place, over and over again, making black dots scatter around my vision. Breathing was getting steadily more difficult, to the point that I was choking on nothing. My hands shook violently as they reached out in an attempt to block his arms from hitting me, but he just grabbed them and held them above my head, his fingernails digging into my wrists.

     The beating continued for a few moments, a foggy haze of pain that washed over my body, making everything searing white hot. Until everything paused.

     Blaise’s face was blurry in front of me. Everything seemed to be spinning, blending together. A hand slapped my cheek, knocking the air out of my lungs and snapping my head to the right. My breath left me in short, quiet breaths. I heard a voice saying something, but I couldn’t make it out.

     “Listen, you fucking dumbass!” Blaise growled. I could make out the distinct features of his mouth forming the words.

     Then slowly, as my vision stabilized, the rest of his face. My eyes stopped at his eyes, unfocused. “You’re a fucking cutter?” The accusation made my heart skip a beat. A chill ran through my spine. _No one knew about it, how did he- what? I don’t understand. Who else knew? Did he tell anyone? Who told him? Did everyone know already, did they just not care? How- how did- oh. When he grabbed my hands, the sleeves must’ve slipped lower. God damn it. Oh, fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck-_ All I could do was gulp and stare at some spot on the ground. The thick air of panic was swallowing me again.

     He grabbed my wrist and held it closer to his face, his tight grip making my cuts sting painfully. I involuntarily let out a small whimper which I instantly regretted. I flinched away, sure that he would hit me again. He didn’t. Blaise’s mouth was taut, his eyebrows scrunched together in frustration.

     “Are you _suicidal_ too?” His tone of voice was still insulting, snarky, but there weren’t any added insults like fag, or dumbass, or retard.

     My heart practically stopped again. _The roof. Yesterday. Had he seen?_ I shook my head hesitantly at his question. Blaise’s eyes glinted dangerously.

     “Don’t you dare fucking lie to me, you understand?” I nodded, too afraid to do anything else. 

     I watched him as he left. I let out a shaky breath and sunk lower into the ground. My eyes closed in exhaustion.


End file.
